Sheckley "The Smell of Thought" analysis. Sheckley "The Smell of Thought" analysis The Smell of Thought summary for the reader's diary

03.05.2020

Robert Sheckley

The smell of thought

Leroy Cleavey's real trouble began when he piloted Iochtolet 243 through the unexploited star cluster Prophetogon. Leroy had been depressed before by the usual difficulties of an interstellar postman: an old ship, ulcerated pipes, misaligned celestial instruments. But now, reading the heading, he noticed that the ship was becoming unbearably hot.

He sighed dejectedly, turned on the cooling system, and contacted the Base Postmaster. The conversation was at critical radio range, and the Postmaster's voice was barely audible through an ocean of static.

Trouble again, Cleavey? asked the Postmaster in the ominous voice of a man who draws up schedules himself and believes in them.

Yes, how can I tell you, - ironically answered Cleavy. - Except for pipes, appliances and wiring, everything is fine, except that the insulation and cooling let us down.

A shame indeed,” the Postmaster said, suddenly filled with sympathy. - I can imagine what it's like for you.

Cleavy turned the refrigeration knob all the way up, wiped the sweat from his eyes, and thought that the Postmaster only thought he knew how his subordinate was feeling right now.

Am I not petitioning the government again and again for new ships? The postmaster laughed ruefully. They seem to think that you can deliver mail on any basket.

For the moment, Cleavey was not interested in the Postmaster's concerns. The cooling plant was running at full capacity, and the ship continued to overheat.

Stay close to the receiver, Cleavy said. He went to the rear of the ship, where the heat seemed to emanate, and found that the three tanks were filled not with combustibles, but with bubbling white-hot slag. The fourth was undergoing the same metamorphosis before our very eyes.

Cleavy stared blankly at the tanks for a moment, then rushed to the radio.

There was no fuel left, he said. - I think there was a catalytic reaction. I told you that new reservoirs are needed. I'll land on the first oxygen planet that comes along.

He grabbed the Emergency Handbook and flipped through the section on the Prophetogon Cluster. There were no colonies in this group of stars, and it was proposed to look for further details on the map on which the oxygen worlds were plotted. What they are rich in, in addition to oxygen, no one knows. Cleavy hoped to find out if the ship didn't break up soon.

I'll try Z-M-22, - he roared through the growing discharges.

Take good care of your mail,” the Postmaster yelled back. “I am sending a ship at once.

Cleavy replied what he would do with the mail - with all twenty pounds of mail. By this time, however, the Postmaster had already stopped receiving.

Cleavey landed successfully on Z-M-22, exceptionally well, given that the red-hot instruments could not be touched, the pipes softened from overheating were twisted in a knot, and the mail bag on the back restricted movement. Post Aircraft 243 floated into the atmosphere like a swan, but at twenty feet above the surface gave up the fight and plummeted down like a stone.

Cleavy struggled desperately not to lose the remnants of consciousness. The sides of the ship had already acquired a dark red hue when it fell out of the emergency hatch; the mail bag was still firmly strapped to his back. Staggering, eyes closed, he ran a hundred yards. As the ship exploded, the blast wave knocked over Cleavey. He got up, took two more steps and finally fell into oblivion.

When Cleavy came to, he was lying on the slope of a small knoll, with his face buried in the tall grass. He was in an indescribable state of shock. It seemed to him that his mind had separated from his body and, liberated, was floating in the air. All worries, feelings, fears remained with the body; mind was free.

He looked around and saw that a small animal was running past, the size of a squirrel, but with dark green fur.

As the animal approached, Cleavy noticed that it had neither eyes nor ears.

This did not surprise him - on the contrary, it seemed quite appropriate. Why the hell did the squirrel's eyes and ears give up? Perhaps it is better that the squirrel does not see the imperfections of the world, does not hear the cries of pain. Another beast appeared, the size and shape of the body resembling a large wolf, but also green. Parallel evolution? It doesn't change the general state of things, Cleavy concluded. This beast also had neither eyes nor ears. But in the mouth sparkled two rows of powerful fangs.

The blind man hunted the blind man, Cleavy thought, and these words seemed to him a deep eternal truth. In front of his eyes, the squirrel suddenly trembled with a small shiver: the wolf spun in place, suddenly jumped and ate the squirrel in three gulps.

What big teeth wolves have, Cleavy thought indifferently. And at the same moment, the eyeless wolf turned sharply in his direction.

Now he's going to eat me, Cleavy thought. It amused him that he would be the first person to be eaten on this planet.

When the wolf snarled just above his face, Cleavy fainted again.

He woke up in the evening. Long shadows were already stretching out, the sun was sinking below the horizon. Cleevee sat up and gently flexed his arms and legs as an experiment. Everything was whole.

He dropped to one knee, still staggering from weakness, but already almost fully aware of what had happened. He remembered the catastrophe, but as if it happened a thousand years ago: the ship burned down, he moved away and fainted. Then he met a wolf and a squirrel.

Cleavey stood up hesitantly and looked around. It must have been the last part of the memory he dreamed about. He would have been dead long ago if a wolf were nearby.

Then Cleavy looked down at his feet and saw the green tail of a squirrel, and a little further away - his head.

He frantically tried to collect his thoughts. So, the wolf really was, and besides, he was hungry. If Cleavy wants to survive before the arrival of the rescuers, we need to find out what happened here and why.

Favorite stories of Koshchei Yozhkovich

Robert Sheckley (1928-2005), science fiction writer

The smell of thought

Leroy Cleavey's real trouble began when he piloted Mail Flight 243 through the unexploited star cluster Prophetogon. Leroy had been depressed before by the usual difficulties of an interstellar postman: an old ship, ulcerated pipes, misaligned celestial instruments. But now, reading the heading, he noticed that the ship was becoming unbearably hot.

Trouble again, Cleavey? asked the Postmaster in the ominous voice of a man who draws up schedules himself and believes in them.

But how can I tell you, - Cleavy replied ironically. - Except for pipes, appliances and wiring, everything is fine, except that the insulation and cooling let us down.

It's a shame indeed," the Postmaster said, suddenly filled with sympathy. "I can imagine what it's like for you there.

Cleavy turned the refrigeration knob all the way up, wiped the sweat from his eyes, and thought the Postmaster only thought he knew how his subordinate was feeling right now.

Am I not petitioning the government again and again for new ships? The postmaster laughed mirthlessly. “They seem to think that you can deliver mail on any basket.

For the moment, Cleavey was not interested in the Postmaster's concerns. The cooling plant was running at full capacity, and the ship continued to overheat.

Don't move away from the receiver," Cleavy said. He went to the rear of the ship, where the heat seemed to emanate, and found that the three tanks were filled not with combustibles, but with bubbling white-hot slag. The fourth was undergoing the same metamorphosis before our very eyes.

Cleavy stared blankly at the tanks for a moment, then rushed to the radio.

There's no fuel left," he said. "I think there's been a catalytic reaction. I told you that new reservoirs are needed. I'll land on the first oxygen planet that comes along.

I'll try Z-M-22, - he roared through the growing discharges.

Keep a good eye on the mail," the Postmaster shouted in a drawn-out reply. "I'm sending a ship at once.

Cleavy replied what he would do with the mail - with all twenty pounds of mail. By this time, however, the Postmaster had already stopped receiving.

Cleavey landed successfully on Z-M-22: exceptionally successful, considering that the red-hot instruments could not be touched. The overheated pipes were twisted into knots, and the mail bag on his back hampered his movements. Post Aircraft 243 floated into the atmosphere like a swan, but at twenty feet above the surface gave up the fight and plummeted down like a stone.

He looked around and saw that a small animal was running past, the size of a squirrel, but with dark green fur.

As the animal approached, Cleavy noticed that it had neither eyes nor ears.

Another animal appeared, the size and shape of the body resembling a large wolf, but also green. Parallel evolution? It doesn't change the general state of things, Cleavy concluded. This beast also had neither eyes nor ears. But in the mouth sparkled two rows of powerful fangs.

Cleavey watched the animals with languid interest. What does a free mind care about wolves and squirrels, even eyeless ones? He noticed that five feet from the wolf, the squirrel froze in place. The wolf approached slowly. At a distance of three feet, he seemed to have lost track - or rather, the smell. He shook his head and slowly made a circle around the squirrel. Then he again moved in a straight line, but in the wrong direction. A blind man preys on a blind man, Cleavy thought, and these words seemed to him a deep eternal truth. In front of his eyes, the squirrel suddenly trembled with a small shiver: the wolf spun in place, suddenly jumped and ate the squirrel in three gulps.

What big teeth wolves have, Cleavy thought indifferently. And at the same moment, the eyeless wolf turned sharply in his direction.

Now he's going to eat me, Cleavy thought. It amused him that he would be the first person to be eaten on this planet.

When the wolf snarled just above his face, Cleavy fainted again.

He woke up in the evening. Long shadows were already stretching out, the sun was sinking below the horizon. Cleevee sat up and gently flexed his arms and legs as an experiment. Everything was whole.

Cleavey stood up hesitantly and looked around. It must have been the last part of the memory he dreamed about. He would have been dead long ago if a wolf were nearby.

Then Cleavy looked down at his feet and saw the green tail of a squirrel, and a little further away, its head.

He frantically tried to collect his thoughts. So, the wolf really was, and besides, he was hungry. If Cleavy wants to survive until the rescuers arrive, they need to FIND OUT what happened here and why.

Animals had neither eyes nor ears. But then how did they hunt each other down? By smell? If so, why was the wolf looking for the squirrel so hesitantly?

There was a low growl, and Cleavy turned around. Less than fifty feet away, a panther-like creature appeared, a greenish-brown panther without eyes or ears.

Damned menagerie, Cleavy thought, and hid in the thick grass. The alien planet gave him neither rest nor time. He needs time to think! How are these animals arranged? Have they not developed a sense of location instead of sight?

The panther trudged away.

Cleavy's heart eased a little. Perhaps, if you don't get in her way, the panther...

As soon as he reached the word "panther" in his thoughts, the animal turned in his direction.

What did I do? Cleavy asked himself, burrowing deeper into the grass. She can't smell me, see me, or hear me. I just decided not to get caught...

Lifting its muzzle up, the panther trotted towards him with measured steps.

That's it! An animal lacking eyes and ears can only detect Cleavey's presence in one way.

Telepathically!

To test his theory, Cleavy mentally uttered the word "panther", identifying it with the approaching beast. The panther roared and noticeably reduced the distance separating them.

In a tiny fraction of a second, Cleavy learned a lot. The wolf pursued the squirrel with the help of telepathy. The squirrel froze - perhaps it turned off its tiny brain. The wolf lost its track and did not find it until the squirrel managed to slow down the activity of the brain.

If so, why didn't the wolf attack Cleavy while he was unconscious? Perhaps Cleavy stopped thinking - at least stopped thinking at the wavelength that the wolf picks up? But it is possible that the situation is much more complicated.

Now the main task is the panther.

The beast howled again. He was only thirty feet away from Cleavey, and the distance was closing rapidly. The main thing is not to think, Cleavy decided, not to think about... think about anything else. Then maybe, sir... well, maybe she'll lose track. He began to go over in his mind all the girls he had ever known, diligently recalling the smallest details.

The panther stopped and scratched its paws doubtfully.

Cleavy kept thinking: about girls, about spaceships, about planets, and again about girls, and about spaceships, and about everything except the panther.

The panther moved another five feet.

Damn it, he thought, how can you not think about something? You think frantically about rocks, rocks, people, landscapes and things, and your mind invariably returns to... but you brush it off and focus on your dead grandmother (holy WOMAN!), drunken old father, bruises on your right leg. (Count them. Eight. Count again. Still eight.) And now you look up, casually seeing, but not calling for p... Anyway, she is still approaching.

Trying not to think about something is like trying to stop an avalanche with your bare hands. Cleavy realized that the human mind does not easily succumb to unceremonious conscious inhibition. This takes time and practice.

He had about fifteen feet left to learn not to think about p...

Well, you can think of card games, parties, dogs, cats, horses, sheep, wolves (get out!), bruises, armadillos, caves, dens, lairs, cubs (watch out!), p-pan -hyrics, and empirics, and mazurics, and clerics, and lyricists, and tragedians (about 8 feet), dinners, filet minions, violets, dates, owls, piglets, sticks, coats and p-p-p-p .. .

Now the panther was within five feet of him, preparing to jump. Cleavy was no longer able to banish the forbidden thought. But suddenly, in a fit of inspiration, he thought: "Panther-female!"

The panther, still straining for the jump, moved its muzzle doubtfully.

Cleavey focused on the idea of a female panther. He is a female panther, and what, in fact, does this male want to achieve by scaring her? On thought about his (ugh, hell, female!) cubs, about the warm den, about the delights of hunting for squirrels ...

The panther moved slowly up close and rubbed against Cleavey. He thought desperately about how beautiful the weather is and what a world guy this panther is - so big, strong, with such huge teeth.

The male purred!

Cleavy lay down, wrapped his imaginary tail around the panther, and decided that he needed to sleep. Panther stood beside him, undecided. She seemed to feel that something was wrong. Then she let out a deep throaty growl, turned and galloped away.

The sun had just set, and everything around was filled with blue. Cleavy found himself trembling uncontrollably and about to burst into hysterical laughter. Hold on panther for a second...

He pulled himself together with an effort. It's time to think seriously.

Probably every animal has a characteristic smell of thought. A squirrel emits one smell, a wolf another, a man a third. The whole question is, is it only possible to track down Cleavy when he thinks of any animal? Or can his thoughts, like scent, be detected even if he is not thinking about anything in particular?

The panther, apparently, smelled him only at the moment when he thought of her. However, this can be explained by novelty, an alien smell of thoughts could confuse the panther at that time.

Well, let's wait and see. Panther is probably not stupid. It was just the first time such a joke had been played with her.

Every joke works...once.

Cleavy lay back and looked up at the sky. He was too tired to move, and his bruised body ached. What will happen to him at night? Do the Avery go hunting? Or is there a truce for the night? He didn't care.

To hell with squirrels, wolves, panthers, lions, tigers and reindeer!

He fell asleep.

In the morning he was surprised that he was still alive. So far everything is going well. After all, it might not be a bad day. In a rosy mood, Cleavy headed towards his ship.

All that was left of Post-243 was a pile of mangled metal on melted soil. Cleavy found a metal rod, measured it on his arm and tucked it into his belt, just below the mailbag. Not so hot what a weapon, but still gives confidence.

The ship was lost forever. Cleavey began to roam the neighborhood in search of food. Fruitful shrubs grew around. Cleavey took a careful bite of the unknown fruit and found it tart but tasty. He ate his fill of berries and washed them down with water from a stream that gurgled nearby in a hollow.

So far, he hasn't seen any animals. Who knows, now they, what good, surround him with a ring.

He tried to distract himself from that thought and started looking for shelter. The surest thing is to lie low until the rescuers come. He wandered over the gentle hills, trying in vain to find a rock, a tree, or a cave. The only friendly terrain to offer was bushes six feet high.

By the middle of the day, he was exhausted, his spirit was down, and he only peered anxiously at the sky. Why are there no lifeguards? According to his calculations, a high-speed rescue ship should arrive in a day, at most in two.

If the Postmaster correctly identified the planet.

Something flashed in the sky. He looked up, and his heart began to beat furiously. Well, the picture!

Above him, effortlessly balancing its gigantic wings, a bird swam slowly. Once she dived as if she had fallen into a hole, but then she confidently continued her flight.

The bird looked strikingly like a vulture.

Now at least one issue is over. Cleavey can be traced by the characteristic scent of his thoughts. Obviously, the animals of this planet have come to the conclusion that the alien is not so foreign that it cannot be eaten.

The wolves crept up cautiously. Cleavy tried the trick he had used the day before. Pulling a metal rod from his belt, he began to imagine himself a she-wolf looking for her cubs. Won't one of you gentlemen help you find them? They were here a minute ago. One is green, the other is spotted, the third...

Perhaps these wolves do not throw spotted cubs. One of them jumped on Cleavey. Cleavy stabbed him with the rod, and the wolf staggered back.

All four closed shoulder to shoulder and resumed their attack.

Cleavy desperately tried to think as if he didn't exist at all. Useless. The wolves stubbornly advanced. Cleavy remembered the panther. He imagined himself a panther. A tall panther who will gladly eat a wolf.

This stopped them. The wolves wagged their tails in alarm, but did not give up their positions.

Cleevy growled, pawed the ground, and leaned forward. The wolves backed away, but one of them slipped to his rear. Cleavey moved sideways, trying not to get into the environment. It seemed that the wolves did not believe the play too much. Perhaps Cleavy portrayed the panther ineptly. The wolves didn't retreat anymore. Cleavey growled savagely and brandished his makeshift baton. One wolf ran headlong, but the one that broke through to the rear jumped on Cleavy and knocked him down,

Wallowing under the wolves, Cleavy experienced a new surge of inspiration. He imagined himself as a snake - very fast, with a deadly sting and poisonous teeth.

The wolves immediately jumped back. Cleavy hissed and arched his boneless neck. The wolves bared their teeth furiously, but showed no desire to advance.

And then Cleavey made a mistake. His mind knew that he had to stand firm and show more impudence. However, the body acted differently. In addition to his salt, he turned and rushed away.

The wolves rushed after him, and looking up, Cleavy saw that the vultures flocked in anticipation of the prey. He pulled himself together and tried to turn into a snake again, but the wolves did not lag behind.

The vultures hovering overhead gave Cleavy an idea. An astronaut, he knew well what the planet looks like from above. Cleavy decided to turn into a bird. He imagined himself floating high, balancing lightly among the air currents, and looking down at the earth, which was spreading wider and wider like a carpet.

The wolves were confused. They circled in place, jumping helplessly into the air. Cleavy continued to hover above the planet, soaring higher and higher, and at the same time slowly backed away.

At last he lost sight of the wolves, and evening came. Cleavy was exhausted. He lived another day. But, apparently, all gambits succeed only once, What will he do tomorrow if the rescue ship does not come?

When it got dark, he could not fall asleep for a long time and kept looking at the sky. However, only the stars were visible there, and nearby, only the occasional growl of a wolf and the roar of a panther, dreaming of breakfast, were heard.

The morning came too soon. Cleavy awoke tired, sleep did not refresh him. Without getting up, Cleavy waited.

Where are the lifeguards? They had plenty of time, Cleavy decided. Why aren't they there yet? If they linger too long, panther...

You shouldn't have thought so. In response, an animal roar was heard from the right.

It was also not worth thinking about, because now the growl of the wolf pack joined the roar of the panther. Cleavy saw all the predators at once. To the right, a greenish-yellow panther stepped gracefully out of the undergrowth. On the left, he clearly distinguished the silhouettes of several wolves. "For a moment, he hoped that the animals would fight. If the wolves had attacked the panther, Cleavy would have managed to sneak away ...

However, the animals were only interested in the alien. Why should they fight among themselves, Cleavy realized, when there was himself, publicly broadcasting his fears and his helplessness?

The panther moved forward. The wolves remained at a respectful distance, apparently determined to enjoy the remnants of her meal. Cleavy again tried to take off like a bird, but the panther, after a moment's hesitation, continued on its way.

Cleavy backed toward the wolves, wishing he had nowhere to climb. Eh, be there a rock or at least a decent tree...

But there are bushes nearby! With ingenuity born of desperation, Cleavey became a six-foot bush. In fact, he had no idea how the bush thought, but he tried his best.

Now he is blooming. And one of the roots was slightly loosened. After the recent storm. But still, given the circumstances, it was by no means a bad bush.

At the edge of the branches, he noticed that the wolves had stopped. The panther began to rush around him, snorting piercingly and cocking its head to one side.

Really, thought Cleavey, who would ever think to bite off a branch of a bush? You may have mistook me for something else, but I'm really just a bush. You don't want to stuff your mouth with leaves, do you? You can break a tooth on my branches. Is it ever heard of a panther eating bushes? But I am a bush. Ask my mom. She is also a bush. We are all bushes, from ancient times, from the Carboniferous period.

Panther was clearly not going to go on the attack. However, she wasn't about to leave. Cleavy wasn't sure how long he would last. What should he be thinking about now? About the delights of spring? About a robin's nest in your hair?

A bird landed on his shoulder.

How cute, Cleavy thought. She also thinks I'm a bush. Intends to make a nest in my branches. Absolutely lovely. All other bushes will burst with envy. The bird pecked lightly on Cleavey's neck.

Take it easy, Cleavy thought. Don't cut the branch you're sitting on...

The bird pecked again, trying on. Then she stood firmly on her webbed feet and began to peck Cleavey's neck with the speed of a pneumatic hammer.

Damn woodpecker, Cleavey thought, trying to stay in character. He noted that the panther suddenly calmed down. However, when the bird pecked his neck for the fifteenth time, Cleavy could not stand it: he grabbed the bird and threw it at the panther.

The panther clicked its teeth, but it was too late. The offended bird made a reconnaissance flight around Cleavey's head and flew away to the quieter bushes.

Instantly Cleavey turned back into a bush, but the game was lost. The panther waved its paw at him. He tried to run, tripped over a wolf and fell. The panther snarled in his ear, and Cleavy realized that he was already dead.

The panther was timid.

Here Cleavey turned into a corpse to the tips of hot fingers. He lay dead for many days, many weeks. His blood has been out for a long time. The flesh is rotten. No sane animal will touch it, no matter how hungry it may be.

The panther seemed to agree with him. She backed away. The wolves let out a hungry howl, but also retreated.

Cleavy extended the age of his putrefaction by a few more days and focused on how terribly indigestible he was, how hopelessly unappetizing. And in the depths of his soul - he was convinced of this - he sincerely did not believe that it was suitable for anyone for a snack. The panther continued to back away, followed by the wolves. Cleavey has been saved! If necessary, he can now remain a corpse until the end of his days.

And suddenly the real smell of rotting flesh reached him. Looking around JIO, he saw that a gigantic bird had landed nearby!

On Earth it would be called a vulture.

Cleavy almost burst into tears. Is there nothing that can help him? The vulture approached him in the staging area. Cleavy jumped up and kicked him. If he is destined to be eaten, then at least not by a vulture.

The panther reappeared with lightning speed, and fury and confusion seemed to be written on its stupid furry muzzle.

Cleavy swung a metal rod, wishing that there was no tree nearby - to climb, a pistol - to shoot, or at least a torch - to scare away ...

Torch! Cleavy knew at once that a way out had been found. He blazed fire into the panther's muzzle, and it crawled away with a plaintive squeal. The Cleavey hurriedly began to spread in all directions, engulfing the bushes in flames, devouring the dry grass.

The panther sped away like an arrow along with the wolves.

It's his turn! How could he forget that all animals have a deep instinctive fear of fire! Indeed, the Cleavey will be the greatest fire that has ever raged in these parts. A light breeze picked up and carried his fire across the hilly ground. Squirrels jumped out from behind the bushes and rushed away in unison. Flocks of birds soared into the air, and panthers, wolves and other predators ran side by side, forgetting to even think about prey, trying only to protect themselves from the fire - from it, Cleavy!

Cleavy was vaguely aware that he was now a true telepath. With his eyes closed, he saw everything that was happening around him, and he felt everything almost physically. He advanced with a roaring flame, sweeping away everything in his path. And felt the fear of those who hastily fled.

That's the way it should be. Has not man always and everywhere been the king of nature, thanks to his ingenuity and ability to adapt? The same is true here. Cleavey triumphantly jumped over a narrow stream three miles from the start, ignited a group of bushes, blazed, threw out a jet of flame ...

Then he felt the first drop of water. It kept burning, but one drop turned into five, then fifteen, then five hundred. He was nailed down with water, and his food - grass and bushes - soon soaked through.

He began to fade.

It's just not fair, Cleavey thought. By all rights, he should have won. He gave the planet a fight on its terms and came out victorious ... only for the blind element to destroy everything.

Animals cautiously returned.

The rain poured down like a bucket. Cleavey's last flame went out. The poor man sighed and fainted...

Damn good job. You took care of the mail to the last, and this is a sign of a good postman. Maybe we can get you a medal.

Cleavey opened his eyes. Above him, beaming with a proud smile, stood the Postmaster. Cleavey lay on his bunk and saw above him the concave metal walls of the starship.

He was on a rescue ship.

What happened? he croaked.

We arrived just in time,” the Postmaster replied. - You'd better not move. A little more and it would have been too late.

Cleavy felt the ship lift off the ground, and realized that he was leaving the planet Z-M-22. He staggered to the viewing window and stared at the green surface floating below.

You were on the verge of death, - said the Postmaster, standing next to Cleavey and looking down. - We managed to turn on the humidification system just in time. You stood in the middle of the most ferocious fire on the steppe I have ever seen.

Looking down at the immaculate green carpet, the Postmaster seemed doubtful. He looked out the window again, his expression reminding Cleavy of a deceived panther.

Wait... How come you don't have burns?

Robert Sheckley is a wonderful science fiction writer who has written many interesting stories. We invite you to get acquainted with one of them in a brief retelling, which will make it possible to understand the plot of Robert Sheckley's story "The Smell of Thought" in a few minutes.

The story The Smell of Thought by Robert Sheckley introduces readers to the starship driver. He worked as a star postman and carried mail from one planet to another. But the trouble is, the ship was very old and quickly heated up. This led to the fact that fuel deteriorates on the road and the postman is forced to land. Having chosen the closest planet on the map, where there would be oxygen, the postman Cleavy landed on the planet Z-M-22, having previously managed to leave the necessary coordinates so that the postmaster could send help.

During landing, the ship was badly damaged, and the pilot himself was thrown aside and he lost consciousness. When the pilot woke up, he saw an interesting animal. It was a squirrel, but for some reason green, without eyes and ears. A wolf of the same color ran after her. He also had no sight or hearing. But somehow he managed to catch the squirrel and eat it. The wolf was heading towards the pilot, but he lost consciousness.

The pilot woke up in the evening. He thought for a moment that everything was a dream, but then he saw parts of the squirrel and everything fell into place. Reflecting on what is happening, Cleavy realizes that the animals find each other telepathically, by the smell of thought. While our hero is thinking, another animal approached him, which resembled a panther. In order to escape from her, he mentally pretends to be a panther - a female and the male retreated.

How Cleavy saw the world of this planet

After meeting with the animal Leroy Cleavey was tired and fell asleep. The next day, he found the starship, which was badly damaged. Having found food, the hero R. Sheckley ate, but then his thoughts returned to the animals. And as soon as he thought of the wolves, they immediately appeared. The postman began to fight them, but nothing helped him scare them away until he turned himself into a snake. She began to frighten the wolves and they began to retreat.

But that's not all, Leroy's thoughts took on a different form. He imagined if the wolves and the panther would appear at the same time. And they came. To deceive them, Cleavy turns himself into a bush with his thought. But a woodpecker flew into the bush and began to peck the neck of our hero. The postman could not stand it, grabbed the bird and threw it at the panther. The deception failed. Leroy despaired and imagined that he was already dead. This stopped the animals. Cleavy began to imagine himself as a corpse, which was already decomposing, and if the wolves and the panther began to run away from the stench, then the vultures immediately flew in. It was necessary to escape again and the hero remembers the fire. He imagines how everything lights up, how he ignites, how bushes and grass burn. The animals began to run away quickly, the birds flew away in flocks. Cleavy realizes that he can control nature, but then raindrops began to fall. First one, then more and more, and the fire began to go out. The postman sighed and fainted.

Sheckley Robert